


A sweet reveal, litter-ally

by delia0117



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, Reveal, adrien pov but in third person, attempted but failed (twice) bedsharing bc the story wrote itself, mlsecretsanta2k17, plagg gives unnecessary comments on the narrative, the cake fic no one asked for but we all deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delia0117/pseuds/delia0117
Summary: Ladybug tries out a birthday cake idea on the world’s greatest gourmand, Chat Noir.Throw into the mix: the Classmate thing, a sassy Plagg, an interested Alya Césaire.Bake for a little while and savour the aftermath.





	A sweet reveal, litter-ally

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostedpuffs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedpuffs/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, frostedpuffs! I’ve been a huge fan of your work, so getting you as my mlss giftee was a bit terrifying at first. I’m proud of how this little guy turned out and I hope you enjoy it!

"Hand over the last piece of cake and you won’t get hurt.” Ladybug was looking at him expectantly.

  
“My Lady, you wound me. How could such a cat resist to the sweetness of his _purrtner_!?” Chat Noir placed his hand over his heart, then made a complete show out of lifting up the remaining piece of cake.

  
“You’re looking at it like it’s gonna be your spouse.” She rolled her eyes.

  
“Maybe my future spouse created this.” He side-eyed her, waiting for a reply.

  
“Sure, Chaton,” the girl said with a flick of her wrist. “I’m sorry to break it upon you, but my father’s married.” She smirked.

  
“Oh, what a trajeudi, My Lady!” He stopped, eyes blown wide, then added: “Don’t you think he could make an exception for such a handsome cat, though?” He then looked at her with mocking, pleading eyes. When no answer came, he straightened his back. “Anyway, what was the cake for? I forgot to ask.”

  
“It’s… kind of my birthday tomorrow?” It came out as more of a question than a definite fact. She swung her legs a couple times, gazing at the parisian scenery.

“I figured I should treat you with something for your sweet tooth, Chaton, but since we don’t have any patrol tomorrow, this was the best option.” She shrugged, but he could see a small smile tugging at her lips.  
His dramatics no longer surprised her, so Ladybug barely moved when he quickly jumped to stand.

  
“One more year added to your life! Bugaboo, you should have told me first thing!” He threw his hands into the air. “This stray cat hasn’t got you any gift! It makes me feel purretty pawful!” Despite the playful tone, his demeanor seemed rather on edge.

  
“You don’t have to, Chat.” She seemed almost sad for a moment. Getting up, she lowered Chat Noir’s hands, rather amused. “However, I was going to serve my classmates with the same kind of cake tomorrow at school. I wanted to test it on the world’s most pretentious couple. That’s why I asked you to save the last piece, anyway. So what do you think,” she asked, placing one hand on her hip. “Is it good?”

  
Silence installed for a short minute, while he ate. She was watching his every move.

  
“It’s amhazinh!” His eyes lit up. Gulping, he added. “Your father surely knows what he’s doing, it’s as good as a professional baker’s!”

  
Ladybug tried to suppress her laughter at that, but failed miserably. He didn’t seem to catch on.

  
“Wait, why did you mention a couple, Buginette?”

  
She finally took the remains of cake from his gloved hands and managed to pack them back into the cardboard the gâteau had come with. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the cake and her partner’s quizzical look.

  
“This,” she said sternly, “is for your kwami. I know Plagg usually eats cheese, but I wanted him to at least have a taste of this. After all, he’s my friend as well, even though I haven’t met him yet.” One corner of her mouth lifted, and it was enough for him to melt.

* * *

 

Yet. The word echoed in Adrien’s mind and he couldn’t seem to get rid of it, even as he stepped down the windowsill and into his bedroom, releasing his transformation.

  
“Yet! Yet, Plagg! She said she hasn’t met you yet! So she wants to! We’ll reveal ourselves and I will love her fully and more than ever and we will marry and-” The little creature floated up to his face, pushing a small paw up to his lips.

  
“Shut up,” Plagg deadpanned. “I need cheese, but since you two stayed up so late tonight, Nathalie expects you to be asleep. Just give me that non-cheese-food you keep strangled in one hand; I can smell it.”

Not bothering to wait for a reply, he was already trying to open the cardboard fully.

  
Ten minutes later and one slightly less groggy kwami, Adrien fell asleep on his bed, the memory of Ladybug smiling still fresh in his mind.

* * *

 

Marinette entered the classroom excitedly, with a full sized cake in her hands. Alya followed close by, carrying a stack of paper plates and plastic forks.

Smiling at her classmates, Marinette announced:  
“Good morning everyone! Before Mme. Bustier arrives, I would like to serve you all with a piece of cake!”

  
Her best friend chimed in, adding a loud _It’s her birthday!!_ , to which everybody clapped. A short string of frantic wishes unfurled from everybody’s mouths, and the pigtailed girl felt nothing short of happiness.

After most of their classmates had got their own serving, Alya surreptitiously slipped a bigger slice into Marinette’s hands, shoving her slightly towards Adrien’s desk.

  
“Hi, Adrien! Would you like your birthday? I mean- my cake? Your cake! Piece of birthday! No… I mean-” she took a deep breath, her face a deep red. When she spoke up again, all air seemed to leave her lungs and Marinette felt like she was going to faint.

“Would you like a piece of cake becauseit’smybirthday!?”

  
The model smiled, his eyes filled with compassion.

“Sure, Mari! Thank you, and have a wonderful birthday!”

As Marinette rushed away, he glanced down to his slice. He couldn’t help but notice the same red coloured rose as on his own gift. Chat Noir’s gift.  
It must surely be a coincidence. After all, Marinette’s parents own a bakery. Ladybug must have bought her cake from there, he concluded. Intruding through his happy, problem-less bubble, were his Lady’s words from a night prior.

  
_“I’m sorry to break it upon you, but my father’s married.”_  
So Ladybug’s father had made her cake. But Marinette’s father also made her cake, for certain. Down to the very filling, they were identical. Cake, cake. Marinette, Ladybug. Marinette is cake. No, Cake is Ladybug. No! _Damn it Plagg, I couldn’t sleep well last night from all of your cheese smell._ It suddenly dawned on him. Ladybug is Marinette!

  
A lovelorn look took over his expressions, and as their teacher set foot into the class, Arien whispered to his schoolbag.

  
“Plagg, we have a gift to _purrchase_ and a Lady to visit tonight.” His Chat-like smirk couldn’t be more obvious, as he turned towards his classmate and said:

  
“Marinette, your father makes amazing cakes!”  
She blushed yet again, muttering a sweet reply before Mme. Bustier scolded them both for interrupting the class.

* * *

 

As the soirée grew darker, Adrien decided it was finally time to leave.  
He had thought out his plan carefully and thoroughly; after all, it was his Lady he was dealing with. His heart sunk a bit at the thought: his one love, being right behind his back all along, quite literally.

  
“Plagg, wish me luck.”

  
Adrien tightened the bow on his Lady’s present. He sighed happily, then made sure his pillows were thoroughly aligned into a mush of (hopefully) model shape.

Throwing a blanket right over, in case Nathalie decided to invite him for dinner, Adrien called out for his powers.

  
Freshly transformed, the boy took a long glance into the mirror. There were no visible signs of anxiety or distress. However, under the layers of tight leather and magical protection, the superhero’s heart threatened to break through and crumble. He couldn’t wait anymore.

  
Only seconds later, a stray cat was leaping out of the Agreste mansion, carrying flowers and a small, heart shaped box.  
Jumping atop the parisian rooftops, Chat Noir couldn’t help but radiate with glee. A shiny sliver of his tail’s metal caught a citizen’s attention; Alya started rushing after him frantically.

  
After a while, the clad black superhero came to a halt, and the reporter thanked all the gods; she had definitely long gone out of breath. She made a move to grab her phone, but soon froze when she realized what the hero was trying to do. One rooftop away from Marinette’s balcony, Chat Noir was checking his hair into a compact mirror.

  
One rooftop away from Marinette’s balcony, Chat Noir was trying out ladybug themed pick up lines. While holding red roses in one of his hands.

  
The young reporter tried wishing away her thoughts. That couldn’t be it, right? The unlucky side of her favourite duo just happened to pass through the neighbourhood while going on patrol. He was at best going on a date with Ladybug. Nothing to do with Marinette here, Alya.  
She kept the idea in mind, repeating it internally as some sort of mantra. The girl almost started believing it, when Chat Noir finally extended his baton and swiftly slided on the edge of her best friend’s balcony.  
Alya let out a screech.

* * *

 

The last thing he registered after the sound was Alya’s face, mouth agape.  
When Chat Noir’s senses came at last, he was unsure of his surroundings. Gazing around the room, still recovering from God knows what, he suddenly recognized the framed picture of himself. Adrien. Although, the frame stood on a white desk, propped against a pale rosy wall. Slowly, he was fully waking up, and a faint smell of vanilla and baked goods was the last drop he needed for a concrete, _methapurrical_ splash in the face.

  
Plagg rolled his eyes, somewhere inside the transformation. _‘Cat boy even puns in his own third person narrative.’_

  
Chat Noir blinked warily, speaking to thin air. “What happened? Did I faint? Pla-”

  
“You’re awake!” Marinette and Alya rushed to the pink bed, watching the hero carefully.

Chat swore he could sense a bit of annoyance in the way Marinette eyed him. _That was it! My Lady!_ he thought. The former minutes passed before his eyes, and he suddenly started to feel unsure.

  
Why was he even rushing to Marinette’s, anyway? And with presents, for the matter. His Lady surely wouldn’t like all the flattery. Getting a small, potted plant would have been an awfully better idea.

  
“Agh! Agh!” Alya’s fake coughing brought him back to the present.

  
“Would you please care to explain what in the living hell you were talking about, and why you mentioned Ladybug as if, like, her and my best friend right here were the same person, and why you just fainted, and wHY IS MARINETTE LOOKING LIKE SHE WILL FAINT AS WELL?”

  
_For a reporter, this girl is talking too fast._

  
_Idiot, stop thinking aloud,_ Plagg threatened from inside the ring.  
To his luck, Marinette spoke up, although a bit rushed. She grabbed her best friend’s wrist, dragging her over to the trapdoor and sending her on the roof.

“Excuse us for a moment!” she yelled after Alya, fixing the trapdoor shut.

  
Her forced laughter sent tingles down Chat Noir’s spine, and for the first time since he stepped into Marinette’s room that night, he felt he understood her completely. They were both into it; together. As Marinette sat down on her bed, he took a sharp breath.

  
“Look, I-“  
“I know you-“

  
They both stopped, blushing. Chat Noir scratched the back of his neck, then gestured her to continue.

  
“I know you know,” she reiterated, slowly. “I just don’t know how it happened. Was I not subtle enough? Did you happen to see me detransform in the alley?” She sighed, and her gaze hit the mattress. Chat Noir could sense, however, that she wasn’t mad. She was simply dumbfounded. So he did what he’s always done around his Lady. He took a risk.

  
“Wait a mewment, Marinette. Don’t you mewmember giving me your birthday cake?”

  
She finally looked him in the eyes, and it was electrifying.  
“I do.”

  
“Well, I couldn’t let it slide without giving you a purresent, especially when you show up at school and serve me again with the same sweet, delicious piece of cake you had tested on me just one night prior.”

  
He winked, and Marinette raised her hands. They were trembling, floating mere inches away from his mask.  
“Chat,”  
She gulped.

  
“Yes, My Lady?”  
Her tiny fingers wrapped themselves to form a fist.

  
“I want to punch you in the face.”

  
“Meowch!” He pulled back, putting space between them.

“What for? Eating more cake than the usual classmate?” He leaned in, placing a finger on her nose and flicking her away.

  
_Plagg’s attitude is definitely having too much of an effect on me_ , he thought.

  
She didn’t seem impressed by his playfulness, and he quickly took notice of the warning signs rising on her face; she was biting on her lower lip and her brows were furrowed.

  
“You.” She pressed one finger into his chest, one fist still hovering in the air.

  
“You are in my class. We have been literally going to the same classes. Together. All this time, you have been sitting somewhere inside that room, making cat puns in your head.”

  
He nodded.

  
“Sweet croissants, I won’t be able to live this down,” she said to herself.  
Chat Noir was offended.

  
“We know each other’s identities and all you care about is my puns?” He pointed at her, as if to fight back.

  
“I am sure you secretly enjoy them. In fact, I think you are thrilled! Double the puns for you, Marinette! I won’t have to hold back now!” Raising both hands into the air, Chat Noir continued. “They don’t even have to be cat related anymore! Come on, fashion designer, _adknit_ it; you are just in denial.” He threw his hands into his lap, grinning.

  
She rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks. Shortly after, though, he noticed her demeanor change drastically.

  
“I still haven’t thought about who you are exactly.”

  
He grimaced, but his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

  
“That is clawrrect, My Lady.”

  
The pun seemed to ease Marinette, as the hero saw her shoulders lose tension.  
“No, but really, Chaton. Who are you?”

  
“Are you really that den-se?”

  
“Uh-uh. Now, tell me.”

  
“I think you’re gonna faint if I do.” He smirked.

  
“Sure, Kitty.”

  
“No, really. I’m Adrien Agreste.”

  
She eyed him suspiciously, but he wasn’t flinching or taking back his words. A few seconds later, she was convinced it was true.

  
“But!” She gestured vaguely towards Chat Noir, then she turned her head to look at her framed picture of Adrien. Her face suddenly grew red.

  
“You idiot!” She took the frame into her left hand and managed to repeatedly smash it against his head.

  
“Meowch!”

  
“Are you guys okay?” Alya’s voice came muffled through the trapdoor.

“I heard him scream! Mari, for the love of god, don’t murder Paris’ hero!” The reporter tapped her heel anxiously against the wood, annoyed to be kept outside of all the action.

  
“Sorry Alya,” Chat Noir shouted.  
Looking back at Marinette, he decided she was taking it way better than he had expected. Although, in her own weird way.

  
“I can’t believe it’s you.”

  
“If it helps you cope, it kind of freaked meowt. You know, before realizing you were an actual person. Dieu...” He smiled sheepishly, and she rolled her eyes.

  
“Typical, minou.” His eyes sparkled with glee at the nickname.

  
Marinette flicked her gaze towards the trapdoor, biting her lip.

  
“Should we let Alya in? It’s getting pretty cold outside,” she said as she eyed the digital clock on her desk.

“Also, I’m trying to ignore the fact that supermodel Adrien Agreste is sitting on my bed in a leather cat suit.”

  
“We should probably let Alya in… Hey, why was she coming here anyway?” He tried to change the subject, blushing. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Were you two planning a sleepoveeer?” He bent forward, placing his chin in his hands, exaggerating every action.

  
“Chat, stop batting your eyelashes at me.” She motioned him to sit up straighter. “I’m going to let Alya in now, be presentable. And yes, we were,” she said, matter-of-factly. “It’s my birthday, after all,” the girl added in a whisper.

  
Chat Noir watched his partner lean up to the trapdoor. She opened the latch and finally allowed her best friend to step back inside. The reporter waved her hands frantically, bringing in a very fast paced excuse as to how she absolutely apologized.

  
“-so you get it, Mari, don’t you? I have to go back home right now,” she finished.  
Marinette blinked her bright blue eyes at Alya, gulping before accepting the excuse.

  
After the girl had left, he spoke up.  
“I could keep you company, if you let me. I can be great fun at sleepovers! I mean… at least Nino said I could be.”

_Two Months Later_

“This was honestly the best idea you’ve ever had, Chaton.”

  
Ladybug was perched on her balcony’s balustrade, lazily yoyo-ing her weapon. She occasionally went to the trouble of softly hitting Chat Noir’s behind as he struggled to set up an improvised blanket fort.

  
“Thank you, My Lady, and happy two month anniversary of our sleepover shenanigans!” He turned around to look at her, dropping the last blanket on top of the others.

  
“Bonne anniversaire, minou.” She jumped off the railing and wrapped an arm around his neck. Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Ladybug then made herself comfortable amidst the sea of fluffy textiles.

  
“So, what anime are we watching this week?” she inquired, grabbing a pillow to hug.

  
Chat Noir sat down beside her, carefully tapping on his baton. Shortly thereafter, he placed it on Marinette’s wooden table. Particles of light made their way to show up onto the small, blanc wall in front of them.  
_Stop abusing your miraculous powers to project Crunchyroll cartoons,_ Plagg’s voice filled the boy’s mind. _At least use it to watch camembert videos, for Fu’s sake!_

  
“Shut up, Plagg,” Chat mumbled.

“So, mon amour,” he chipped up, “this furtunate week we are marathoning Ouran Highschool Host Club! I promise you, Bugaboo, you will _pawdore_ it!” He nudged her with an elbow, curling his tail around her waist.

  
“This is what you said last week as well, when we tried stargazing for the first time. And you forgot to check the weather report!” She accentuated her last sentence by threateningly flicking his nose with each word. Chat Noir found it adorable.

  
“Hey, at least our costumes protect us from the cold. That was the whole idea of Superhero Saturdays!”

  
Ladybug smiled fondly at the name she came up with for their arranged sleepovers. However, she grimaced in distaste as she politely reminded her partner that, miraculous or not, cats and bugs do get drenched in the rain.

As the fourth episode’s ending started playing, Ladybug was still avidly attentive, singing the easier parts of the catchy tune. The sleeping chat in her lap squirmed at the sound, tightening his tail’s grip on her waist. The heroine smiled, then returned her attention to the next episode.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I appreciate each reply, and if you need a beta or just want to chat I’m on tumblr at @trashhnoir.  
> I’m a huge fan of Alya, and I’m sad I couldn’t give her a bigger role into the story as I would’ve liked. I’m sorry for any plot holes, I’ve gone over the fic many times filling in with information, but some might have still remained ~unsolved~.


End file.
